


Behind the Closed Door

by J97Masaki



Category: Gintama
Genre: A character study of sorts, Established Relationship, F/M, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, S with non-M partner, not happy sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 15:02:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8671966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J97Masaki/pseuds/J97Masaki
Summary: Self/OC-insert fic. It's not like his sadism is only applicable in humor and gags.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I made this fic long long ago, when I was wondering the difference between Sougo's and Gintoki's sadism, because Gintoki always seems to be surprised or low-key disapproving Sougo's sadism (Shinpachi's penpal arc). So maybe his sadism, other than the ones used as a joke, is more of the closeted kind. Something that happens behind the curtain.

It always takes a while for people to open up their true selves to others -- or, at least, one specific part of themselves. Some are slightly more honest -- warning others of their less pleasant habits, or admitting to doing things that might cause discomfort -- like lying -- a bit more like handing out lists of what make them go apeshit. But we can never know the true extent of their darker personality until it is directed to us. Most times, the truth will shock us, or maybe scare us. And sometimes, we’ll wish we’d never known.

Gintoki had always offhandedly told people that he’s a sadist. Never was he seen treating females like his sadist partner, Sougo, so nobody ever knew how much of a sadist he was. Sure, he didn’t bat an eye when watching his favourite idol on TV being thrown garbage and mocked cruelly in public, but then he went about telling another reason that sounded more humane, kinder, and somewhat seemed pure of intent.

And there was also the case with Sacchan, a self-proclaimed masochistic ninja that practically threw herself all over Gintoki. Despite her bad habit of being suddenly blind when her glasses were taken off, she’s beautiful, smart, with great assets, to boot. Pretty sure she’s well off too. She’s basically the perfect match for Gintoki the sadist samurai. But then never was he seen making any move on her, or simply accepting her feelings. Being loved by a stalker is too creepy? Pretty sure she wasn’t as bad as Isao.

But then, just when his self-proclamation was shrugged off by Matsuri for exaggerating his character to appeal to audiences and readers, Matsuri finally understood just how much of a sadist the man called Sakata Gintoki is.

It all started normally, as normal a life in Yorozuya Gin-chan could be. Kagura went to bed, Gintoki and Matsuri had a little drink -- a bit more for Matsuri, because no matter how many times they’d done it, she still couldn’t get used to stripping in front of a man, especially a man he adored -- and a lot of clumsy attempts from Gintoki at smooth-talking Matsuri, which just made her giggle.

Some might worry about doing it when other attendee of the house is fast asleep, especially when said attendee is a minor. But it had never been a problem from Gintoki and Matsuri, as they had senses sharper than Benizakura, and neither were the type to get loud under the blanket anyway. They could stop anytime and froze in place when sensing Kagura waking up to go to the toilet, even while focusing on the delight of each other’s physical touch. They were really like married couple with a young child, in that way.

Truly, nothing out of the ordinary was happening then. The cuddling, the groping, the giggling, the butterfly kisses on Matsuri’s lips and down her neck. That was, until she noticed Gintoki lingering a bit too long there, just above her collarbone, teeth touching the bare of her skin.

And so she felt those teeth digging, slowly, almost gently, to her skin. Painfully slow, she felt as her skin was slowly torn and heat built up on that particular spot. She gaped in surprise, her eyes rounded as she stared at the bushy silver hair on top of Gintoki’s head, the only thing from Gintoki she could currently see. She used to like looking at his hair under the moonlight, especially during full moon, as it happened to be that day too. But she was holding the urge to scream that she couldn’t even register Gintoki’s hair’s silvery glimmer.

Granted, Matsuri had felt pain more than she was feeling then. There is no way a person can be as good in martial arts as Matsuri without going into fights one way or the other. But the silenced scream came mostly out of shock than pure pain.

Gintoki was still sinking his teeth into her neck even deeper when the first wave of shock finally passed Matsuri. She bit her lip to wake her just-now pleasure-filled body to react according to her will. She pulled her right hand from between their body and tried reaching for his hair, before it was stopped and held in place inches away by Gintoki’s left.

He pulled away from his position then, and Matsuri could see a look on his face that she’d never seen before. His half-lidded eyes -- partially hidden by his long bangs -- usually held nothing but laziness, are now filled with the air of dangerous insanity she thought was reserved when slicing enemies on his solo fights. Some part of them also held a familiar lust, the same kind she’d seen on their nights together, but deeper.

Then he inched his face to hers, and spoke, in a voice just above a whisper, yet so deep and clear and commanding, “Don’t ruin the fun, Rii-kun.” A nickname Gintoki used when he was making mockery out of Matsuri.

A shiver ran through Matsuri’s whole being that she swore her unruly hair just went straight at the moment. Although it could just be from the feeling of cold liquid running down from her bitten neck, rather than her newfound fear of Gintoki. The latter seemed to be more plausible.

Gintoki didn't give her enough time to think just what on Edo was going on when her lips were meet with his and he started nibbling -- biting -- and sucking. Normally this gesture didn't bother Matsuri, as she knew Gintoki could be a little rough. But his current roughness has gone beyond what Matsuri’s used to that it scared her to think what else Gintoki could do in his lustful trance. She wanted to shout, maybe wake Kagura up, so they -- he -- would stop.

But since her mouth was being occupied by the man's tongue, she compensate by doing what she thought would stop anyone.

Using her left hand, she punched him, hard, on the face.

Gintoki was biting on her lips when she did so, and by doing that her lips were pulled along with the momentum. Needless to say, her lower lip started to bleed.

Even in the dull light of the moon, Matsuri can see Gintoki’s face. Dim lights reflected on his silvery hair shone his face just enough to give more than a contour. Matsuri was expecting him to sober up and maybe apologize -- however impossible an act it was coming from Gintoki. Instead, the look in his eyes made her regret ever punching the man once called a demon.

The glint in his eyes promised a dangerous amusement, and a certain determination he always had before utterly wrecking the foes that stood in his samurai path. These eyes weren’t even the ones used when he fought to protect -- because those were just as gentle as they were protecting, while these are simply … predatory.

Matsuri always kept a small knife under strapped high on her thigh. As neither of them we fully undressed by this time, Matsuri instinctively reached for it. Unfortunately, she wasn’t quick enough as Gintoki, who was above her, claimed the knife first. He proceeded with a stabbing motion down her jugular, but stopped just as the tip touched her skin. Matsuri was a bit proud that even the lightest touch of her knife caused skin to bleed, but remembered it was her own skin being wounded. She cursed herself.

“Come on, Matsuri~” she heard Gintoki sang while moving the knife slowly down her chest, deep enough to result in blood, but shallow still to not cause actual harm. It also helped that her knife was extremely sharp, the layer of skin cut easily without extra friction pain. “If you keep playing the virgin, I might just make myself comfortable by raping you.”

It was amazing how Gintoki’s eyes could reflect a hundred emotions in a second, as he now looked at Matsuri, daring her to make a move again. When she did nothing, he smirked that irksome triumphant smile of his and callously tossed the knife aside. He then proceeded to licking the wound he’d just caused on Matsuri’s body.

Matsuri hissed, “What the fuck has come unto you, Gintoki?!”

To which the questioned only lifted his head, stared at Matsuri, tilting his head, face painted with mock-innocence, “Eh? What are you saying? I haven’t cummed yet.”

Matsuri could respond nothing other than a ‘tsk’, and only realizing that Gintoki had been holding both her hands down, pinning her in place. He moved his head to her ears, whispering low and dangerously as he did a moment before, “And it’s gonna take a looong night to make me cum.”

Matsuri didn’t remember much of what had happened after that, but she remembered plenty of the pains and wounds caused not only at her physical, but also emotion.

She remembered, being half-choked when Gintoki roughly held the back of her neck and pulled her face towards him, shoving his member down her throat, causing her to tear up, and being told to swallow it whole. His other hand cupped her face, which was almost sweet, if the thumb hadn’t been pressing too hard on her eyelid, causing major discomfort on top of the whole situation.

She remembered, being all four, Gintoki pounding roughly, with his teeth scraping and biting on the skins of her back, arms held hard it left a visible blue for the next three days. Gone was the gentleness she’d used to receive like it was never there to begin with.

She remembered him, chuckling darkly when she lost all will to fight back. And how he smiled widely when he wiped the tears on her eyes -- of her silent sobs -- almost too gently, almost too lovingly, with the thumb of the palm that cupped her cheek, and his body shook with laughter afterwards. She remembered it being more annoying than Sakamoto’s usual, obnoxiously loud laughs.

She remembered the horror left after on her body -- the cuts and bruises -- when she showered a bit early in the morning as to not scare Kagura and Shinpachi. She hid it well under her clothes, or more possibly, Gintoki had calculated right in leaving marks where it would not show after she dressed up.

She remembered promising herself to punch Gintoki in the face, and maybe using his own bokuto against him. She remembered wanting to do so much to show how much she had hated what he had done to her the night before.

But above all, she remembered him, looking straight at her after she put the breakfast in front of him -- because it was her turn to cook -- and thanked her, gratitude overflowing from his eyes, as if he couldn’t believe she didn’t throw the bowl on his face, or even, didn't avoid being in the same room as him. She remembered the fear -- the insecurity -- and she remembered the relief -- the tense lifting from his shoulders.

 

She remembered him. Demon. Sakata Gintoki. Sadist. Human.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm one lazy good-for-nothing ass that didn't bother to try fixing anything in this after I was done writing it years ago. Not that I have enough skill to fix anything anyway. Bring on the flames! ..・ヾ(。＞＜)シ


End file.
